


The Taming of the Wolf

by tersa (alix)



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age 2, Dragon Age II
Genre: Dragon Age Kink Meme, Kink Meme, M/M, Plot What Plot, Porn, Rivamance, Slash, kmeme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-19
Updated: 2011-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-22 20:19:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/242180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alix/pseuds/tersa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Conceived independently, but this <a href="">kmeme prompt</a> sums it up best: <i>I don't know if it was intentional or not, but during the first rivalry romance scene (right after A Bitter Pill), after he slams Hawke against the wall, Fenris looks like he is avoiding eye contact. I felt somewhat uncomfortable when my Hawke kept making out with him, as he seemed quite upset and insecure. I'd like a Hawke that stops the groping and wall-slamming to talk for a bit.</i></p><p>
  <i>Rivalmance is very conflicted and aggressive, but my Hawke was such a caring person, he/she would like Fenris to feel safe and calm before sexy times."</i>
</p><p>tl;dr: A re-imagining of the first time sex scene between Fenris and a sarcastic/diplomatic male mage Hawke in a Rivamance, strongly inspired by <a href="http://i-do-not-brood.livejournal.com/69471.html">this art</a> (not associated with this fic).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taming of the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to LiveJournal in June 2011

> "I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."
> 
> "Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince. But, after some thought, he added: "What does that mean-- 'tame'?"
> 
> [...]"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."
> 
> "'To establish ties'?"
> 
> "Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..." -- [The Little Prince](http://home.pacific.net.hk/~rebylee/text/prince/21.html)

Garrett had known Fenris for three years, but he wasn’t sure he would call him a friend. Friendship implied a sense of trust. A certain comfort level around the other person. Fenris was anything but comfortable, from his spiky armor to his prickly demeanor. He hated mages (which Garrett was), which would have made their relationship hilarious if Garrett didn’t worry that one day Fenris would put his hand in his chest to explode his heart. Fenris said he stuck around out of a sense of obligation (misguided, in Garrett’s opinion), but spent most of his time sniping about how Garrett (and Anders, and Merrill) was inherently evil (he might have been right about Merrill. Anders was still open for debate). Garrett spent most of his time arguing right back about how much of a pigheaded bigot Fenris was, but he still visited Fenris in the ramshackle sty of a mansion (really, couldn’t he clean up a little?) to teach him to read, because ignorance was intolerable, and asked Fenris to accompany him around Kirkwall, because he _was_ awfully good with that sword.

And because he was fucking hot. That was really the problem of it all. While they circled and snapped at each other like dogs in a turf war, sparks flew (sometimes literally. Anders had taught Garrett that electricity trick, and he had to practice _somehow_. Touching Fenris and not getting caught until it was too late was the most fun Garrett had), to the point that even Merrill asked what was going on and Isabela loudly (and frequently) suggested they get a room.

But they hadn’t, yet. There was mutual (if warily) admitted interest, but the magic thing and the fisting thing were the world’s greatest cockblocks.

They’d fought (again) after Garrett had agreed to track down that Tevinter mage from Fenris’s past, and Garrett had yet another all too vivid display of what would happen if Fenris snapped one day and decided ridding the world of one more mage outweighed his debt of honor. With Isabela and Anders there, Garrett had risked his doom refusing to put up with Fenris spouting bullshit until Fenris had stormed out in a snit. All there was for it after that was to let Isabela drag him to the Hanged Man to drown himself in the swill they called beer until he could go home and not care anymore.

Fenris was waiting for him. In Garrett’s _home_ , waiting for him, _apologizing_ , and then getting angry and ready to storm off (again).

So sure, grabbing the arm of angry elf wielding a sword bigger than he was who could rip his chest open may not have been the brightest idea in the world, but Garrett was inebriated, and you did stupid things when you’d been drinking.

He hadn’t expected to be thrown into a _wall_ for it.

Or that he’d enjoy it so much.

Pure magic coursed up his arm in the wake of Fenris activating his lyrium tattoos, setting fire to his veins and making him drunk on the power. Fenris’s lean body pressed against his, and waves of arousal threatened to drown him. He wasn’t sure who was shocked more, him or Fenris, his eyes wide as he studied Garrett’s face. Their chests heaved from quickened breathing, battle instincts and lust in equal parts, their lips parted. A pause, as if they both seemed to wait to see if the other one would turn violent, and Garrett threw caution to the wind. He grabbed Fenris’s face in his hands and kissed him in a clash of lips and teeth. If he was going to die, he was going to die having done it, but the risk made it all the more exciting to move against Fenris’s mouth hungrily.

When Fenris shuddered, his lips parting in the onslaught, Garrett felt a flash of elation and counted it a victory. Breaking away, he shifted, spinning Fenris to slam _him_ against the wall, the air going out of Fenris in a grunting whoosh. Garrett followed the motion, leaning hard against him, bringing a knee up to part Fenris’s legs until he met resistance, heard Fenris’s breath catch. Garrett’s mouth found Fenris’s neck and kissed a path downwards, tasting the marked skin in eager exploration, until Fenris’s head tipped back against the wall, his breath rattling in his chest as he panted.

Garrett had reached the hollow of Fenris’s throat before a shred of reason returned, if for no other reason than the serious practicality of figuring out how to get him out of all that armor. He pulled out of the kiss, but not away from the wall, enjoying, too much, the feel of Fenris quivering against him. Fenris’s pupils were blown, the black swallowing up all but the thinnest sliver of green, but Garrett saw fear there along with the desire. With reluctance (really, one of the most difficult things he’d probably done in his life up to that point), he pushed himself off, putting space between them.

“What are you doing?” Fenris asked, an edge of panic in his harsh voice.

“I’m tired of you saying I’m destined to be like them, just because I’m an apostate. I am no magister. You are no slave,” he drew in a ragged breath and let it out. “I will not have you as if you are trapped.” Garrett put his hand out, (shaking, he noticed, Maker, he wanted him!), palm up, waiting. “You have to choose to be here.”

Fenris stared at the hand as if it might be a snake, then grabbed the front of Garrett’s robes and drew him back in. Garrett’s head spun as Fenris’s lips parted under the lashing of his tongue, meeting in a sinuous dance that filled his mouth. Only to separate, Fenris in turn dropping his head to duck under Garrett’s chin, biting and licking and kissing down the throat while Garrett’s eyes closed and he rode the sensation.

“Upstairs,” he breathed, when Fenris’s attentions climbed upwards, under the line of his jaw.

Causing Fenris to pause. “I…”

Garrett had never known Fenris to be speechless. Terse, yes, but not this trailing off into uncertainty. It was cheating, but he worked his hand between their bodies and slithered down, finding the bulge of an erection between Fenris’s legs and cupping it, squeezing gently. A hissing intake of breath, a widening of his eyes in surprise, and Fenris’s hips moved into the touch, away and then in again, sighing as he did so. “There can be more,” Garrett promised in husky undertone, dragging his hand with languorous ease up and down the hard lump. “But not here, in the hall.”

Fenris’s eyes fluttered to slits before he sighed, “Yes,” drawing out the sibilant as his fingers clutched at Garrett’s shoulders. He whimpered at the loss of Garrett withdrawing his hand, eyes opening to a sensuous half-lidding that nearly weakened Garrett’s resolve to not take him right there.

They made their way up the staircase to the estate’s master bedroom, Garrett leading, Fenris following. There was no hand-holding, no discussion, just Garrett on a single-minded mission to get there as quickly as possible so he could fuck him senseless, and maybe himself as well. He shuddered at the sound of the door closing behind Fenris, control shedding off his shoulders with the motion, and turned to face the elf, to find him standing as if rooted to the spot, breathing as if he’d just run up the stairs rather than walked them.

That’s when Garrett remembered that his was Fenris’s first time, and his mouth went dry.

His need screamed at him, but Garrett had meant what he said. He didn’t want to force Fenris, or even make him _feel_ forced. He shook when he gathered Fenris’s hand in his and drew him towards the bed. Catching and holding his gaze, Garrett unlaced his shirt and pulled it over his head swiftly, revealing the broad expanse of shoulder and lightly furred chest, then slowly, more deliberately, unknotted his trews to shove them and smallclothes down to his knees, lifting his feet to tear them off. Fenris watched with avid interest, his green eyes glittering in the lamplight as he drank in Garrett’s nakedness, gaze lingering on the cock lifting from the nest of fur between Garrett’s thighs with equal parts longing and morbid fascination.

“Your turn,” Garrett said, breaking the silence, adding huskily, “Do you want help?”

Fenris startled at the sound, eyes snapping up to Garrett’s face before slewing away. “No,” he said simply. For a moment Garrett thought that he would turn and flee, but Fenris took a deep breath and began unbuckling his armor. Garrett found himself torn between watching the strip show and allowing Fenris his privacy, sensing his shyness, and split the difference by turning down the covers and sneaking furtive peeks, which somehow made it even hotter than if he’d just openly watched. Silvery swirls on ivory pale skin, the nearly invisible marks of countless scars, long, sinewy muscles rippling under it, and the markings...did in fact go all the way down, across the jutting bones of his hips and the slender corded legs. Garrett’s perusal went back up, to Fenris’s jutting dick, the darkness of it compared to the rest of him, and his hands itched to touch. Fenris’s voice broke into his admiration. “Stop staring.”

“You’re beautiful,” Garrett blurted out, which caused Fenris’s jaw to set. Garrett’s breath caught in his chest, waiting to see if Fenris would run.

He didn’t, instead turning his head to look at Garrett sidelong.

Mingled with the fear and distrust was the strongest come fuck me look Garrett had seen in, well, ever. His feet moved him forward to close the distance before he’d realized he was walking, and he took Fenris’s face in his hands once again, turning it towards him so he could kiss him. Garrett’s eyes closed at the intensity of the desire slamming into him, his mouth working against Fenris’s softening lips until Fenris whimpered, his body melding into Garrett’s. There was a shock when their cocks brushed against one another, a shuddering gasp, and then Fenris threw his arms around Garrett’s waist and clung, pressing hips together hard.

Garrett was pretty sure he was the one who pulled Fenris to the bed, but he wouldn’t have sworn it. He felt the frame hit the back of his knees, and he fell, gripping the back of Fenris’s neck and borne down by his weight. Taking advantage of Fenris re-positioning his hands, Garrett dragged his own down the length of Fenris’s spine until he groaned against Garrett’s mouth. Grasping his ass tore Fenris from his mouth as he pulled away, arching into it.

With a shove of an elbow beneath him, Garrett hauled himself more fully into the bed and reached for Fenris as he followed, rolling to top him. Hands pressed into the mattress, controlling the weight holding Fenris down as he blazed a path down his throat once more, tasting the zing of lyrium as his tongue passed over the tattoos. A pause, and Fenris’s hands found Garrett’s back, kneading the muscles of his shoulders then drawing up the nape of Garrett’s neck with his thumbs, riffling the hair there with a gasp from Garrett. Garrett slid to one hip to allow his hand free rein to roam down Fenris’s chest, a flick of a thumb against the nipple, then lower, across the taut muscles of his belly, until he found Fenris’s cock.

A barking cry escaped Fenris’s throat, and he went rigid, tattoos beginning to glow.

As if burned, Garrett jerked his hand away, heart beating fast from more than just lust. “What--“ he started, then cut himself off to study Fenris’s face warily.

A blush colored his cheeks, of arousal, of embarrassment, Garrett couldn’t tell. His eyes opened to slits to meet Garrett’s gaze. “I...it is nothing,” he said, voice thick with emotion. “Your touch startled me.”

Garrett wasn’t sure if he should continue. The flaring of the tattoos had been briefly terrifying, but in the adrenaline-soaked aftermath, he wanted Fenris more than ever. Mind racing for another approach, Garrett brought himself even with Fenris and reached across to take his hand, ready, if Fenris snapped right then, to defend himself. But there was nothing, just Fenris allowing his hand to be taken. With his heart in his throat, making it difficult to breathe, Garrett guided Fenris’s hand between his legs, laying it against the swollen thickness of his member. It was the ultimate show of trust, but even so, Garrett trembled in the waiting to see how Fenris would react, wondering if _this_ would be the moment it would come crashing down on him and he’d lose something he valued more than his heart.

Fenris’s hand wrapped around the base of Garrett’s cock and stroked upwards slowly, eyes flickering as he searched Garrett’s face as if for approval. Garrett exhaled a moan, and Fenris’s features eased, his breathing calming, and he glided his hand back down again, inhaling sharply when Garrett leaned into his touch. For a short time, all Garrett knew was the rasping sounds of Fenris’s quickened breathing, the creak of the mattress, and the feeling of that stroking, his hips falling into a languid rhythm with the motion as he let himself relax.

The pressure built, and Garrett was cresting, higher and higher, nearing the point of no return, and although he craved hitting that pinnacle, he didn’t want it this way. He curled his fingers around Fenris’s wrist, guiding it away to remove the temptation, and leaned in to kiss him again, opening his mouth and dragging in Fenris’s tongue sloppily, eagerly returned. Breaking away, he shoved himself down the bed, stopping to mark his path with mouth and teeth, across throat, chest, and belly, until he reached the upward curve of Fenris’s erection, bobbing enticingly above his pubic bone. With a nervous flicker up to Fenris’s slack face, Garrett closed his mouth on the glans, and waited for lighting to strike. To have Fenris drawl out a groan, his hand fluttering to tangle in Garrett’s hair, the light tug he gave goading Garrett on. Hand added to mouth, closing around the shaft and stroking in increasing tempo, the catches in Fenris breath as he began thrusting aroused Garrett further. He took it as a sign of Fenris’s readiness, and his hand shifted to play lightly with the balls, causing Fenris to strain upwards momentarily, but then continued lower, curving around to force his fingers within the butt crack and finding the puckered star of skin. A touch, and Fenris hissed. Another, and a shuddery breath came from him. Garrett worked the ring of muscle, loosening it, until one, two, three fingers could enter, stretching him. Fenris was panting, pre-cum salty sour on Garrett’s tongue, and it was time.

He pulled off Fenris’s cock with a final swirl around the head, then raised himself from the bed. “Come here,” he beckoned, trying to be gentle about it, but his voice was so guttural he wasn’t sure how it would be construed. Fenris obeyed, though, hitching himself over to the edge as Garrett motioned him too, quivering in anticipation. Garrett spread Fenris’s legs, fingers again finding the hole and working it open, then brought the tip of his cock to it with his other hand, until the two touched. He met Fenris’s eyes as he spat into his own hand, held them as he smeared it all over his shaft. Lips parted, eyes dilated, pre-cum dripping from the head of his cock, Fenris was ready when Garrett began pushing himself in, slowly at first, shallowly, curbing the desire to shove himself in hard, tearing Fenris open in his haste. He shook with the effort at patience, and put a hand down on the edge of the bed to steady himself, pull back a little, in a little deeper, until inch by inch he was taken in fully sheathed.

Fenris’s eyes went wide, with shock, with fear, with desire, Garrett couldn’t tell which or all. But he took Fenris’s cock in his hand and Fenris jumped, eyelids drooping at the sensations overwhelming him. Garrett began pumping, slowly, leaning into him, matching the rhythm of his hand to his thrusts. Fenris moaned, hips rising from the bed and exerting new pressures on Garrett’s member, a grunting sigh coming from him. Garrett was fast losing his grip on control, as instinct and nature took over and the tempo of his strokes increased. Fenris’s hand buried in Garrett’s hair, tugging with each wave that strained him deeper into Garrett’s penetration, the touch of his hand. The look of euphoria on his face, his deep throated groans coming at each push, and Garrett crossed the line, plunges coming in a frenzy as he built towards climax. A cry tore from Fenris, hips jerking in spasms as he came, hot jizz smearing on Garrett’s hand, and he splayed it in the puddle of liquid pooling on Fenris’s belly as his own orgasm hit him, going rigid as he emptied himself.

The only sound in the room was the crackle of the fire in the hearth and harsh breathing as they returned from the brink of insensibility together but separately. With a quiver of overspent muscles, Garrett drew himself out and staggered to find a cloth to clean up with, finding another for Fenris that he draped across the elf’s belly before taking care of himself. He was weary, knees jelly, and he fell back to the bed when he was done, sprawled out next to Fenris face first in the pillow, and drifted off to sleep (not even dreaming that the moment of heart rending would come when he awoke).


End file.
